


The Inner Turmoil

by Angela1008



Category: Hannibal - Fandom
Genre: Gen, hannibloom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 07:44:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 701
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1379548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angela1008/pseuds/Angela1008
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Alana?”<br/>“I’m sorry for coming here, I’m really embarrassed now. I should go, I mean-“<br/>“No, you are too upset to be driving right now. Come inside.”<br/>He opened the door for her, and took her coat. She walked straight into the living room, well familiar with the surroundings of the house.<br/>“You can stay here for the night.”<br/>“Thank you, but I probably won’t, Hannibal,” she replied, slumping on one of the couches. Her blue eyes wandered around the intricacies of the room, before finally fixing on a faraway point in the distance, her thoughts dark and mournful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Inner Turmoil

**Author's Note:**

> Hi there! I've finally decided to spend my time doing something useful, like indulging in my favourite passion: Writing! And since I love Hannibal, I couldn't resist joining the fandom here :) Read and enjoy! 
> 
> (Hint: I welcome critiques and comments)

“Alana?”

“I’m sorry for coming here, I’m really embarrassed now. I should go, I mean-“

“No, you are too upset to be driving right now. Come inside.”

He opened the door for her, and took her coat. She walked straight into the living room, well familiar with the surroundings of the house.

“You can stay here for the night.”

“Thank you, but I probably won’t, Hannibal,” she replied, slumping on one of the couches. Her blue eyes wandered around the intricacies of the room, before finally fixing on a faraway point in the distance, her thoughts dark and mournful.

“You do know that it isn’t your fault, Alana.” 

“But you can’t be sure, Hannibal!” she exclaimed, thick grief clearly heard in the soft tones of her voice.

“Why do you think it is your fault, then?” He tried a different approach.

She leaned back, her eyes suddenly rimmed with red. “A few days before Beverly went missing, she called me.”

“And?”

“She doesn’t believe that Will murdered all those people."

Alana scrutinized Hannibal’s features carefully, trying to decipher what emotions he had hidden so cleanly underneath the mask of foreign politeness.

“She told me something similar,” he returned, at last. “Did she say anything else?”

She closed her eyes, but it was a futile effort to prevent the tears from flowing down her cheeks. He stood up, and in a few smooth steps, stood in front of her and cupped her face gently. She could feel the warmth of his hands spread throughout her body, calming her somewhat.

“Would you like a drink?”

She looked up, surprised to see the glass of beer being offered to her. She hadn’t even noticed that he had gone.

“Thank you, again,” she returned, taking the glass gratefully. After a light sniff and a sip, she raised an eyebrow. “This isn’t the same as the reserve you claimed you had for me when I played sous-chef, Hannibal.”

“I never specified how many reserves I keep for my frequent guests.”

She attempted a small smile, but it faded just as abruptly as it came. “I just wish Beverly is found… alive."

In reply, he took a step back, and held out a hand to her. “She is an extremely intuitive person; she has the ability to escape even the most complex of traps. For example, my pantry. ”

He smiled at her, in jest.

“Well, I would like to see all the fine beer you have stored for me alone,” Alana joked, taking his hand and pulling her slim frame up from the seat.

“Of course, Dr. Bloom,” he returned in his warm voice, looking at her with his usual deep, understanding gaze.

For a moment, it seemed as if all was normal again. As if Will Graham wasn’t in jail, and Beverly Katz wasn’t reported missing. When all was well in the world.

Thinking of them again, she heaved another light sigh. “I can’t get either of them out of my mind, you know? When I’m awake, I’m collectively worried for both Beverly and Will.”

“And when you’re asleep?” he inquired softly.

“I begin to understand why Will always looks tired in the morning, even though he probably had a full nights’ sleep.”

He opened the door to his freezer, and a gust of cold air hit their faces.

“Wow, I am impressed, Hannibal,” she said, marveling. “All that beer, just for me? I didn’t realize that I came by so often.”

“Alcoholic beverages tend to assist in taking the mind off certain matters, so to speak.”

“It’s not helping me,” Alana said sadly. “If only I had listened to Beverly, maybe she’d still be here.”

“She is here,” he answered with a slight smile. “In our hearts.”

She paced the floor of the pantry, guilt eating at her, piece by piece. She never saw the hastily patched up bullet holes in the mahogany ceiling above her.

Finally, she broke her silence by looking up at his concerned face. “What if Will really didn’t cause all those murders?”

“You mustn’t cloud your made judgment,” he urged. “The evidence is damning, Alana.”

“I know, but why does my heart still feel as if I’ve made a mistake?”

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to send me prompts to write other Hannibal-related short short stories, ask me on my Tumblr or comment below, yea? 
> 
> http://angelajr.tumblr.com/


End file.
